


Intertwined

by AnAmberedBee_011



Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Multi, vague PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 17:01:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16223444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnAmberedBee_011/pseuds/AnAmberedBee_011
Summary: Together they are happier than they ever are apart.  BuffyxAsherxJeanClaude





	Intertwined

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://s835.photobucket.com/user/ccallahan011/media/Fanart02.png.html)

I own none of the character used herein, not the Buffyverse ones nor the Anitaverse ones. They are all the respective property of Mutant Enemy and Laurell K. Hamilton.  
  
If I make spelling mistakes, sorry. It's gonna happen and this is fan fiction so accept it and move on. Originally posted to Twisting the Hellmouth in 2013 as an idea for a larger story. Never ended up writing it so if someone else wants to please let me know so I can read it! haha   
  
Hope you like the story :)  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
She couldn't remember when this had started.  
  
The dancing? The frustration with their partners? The fear of a final death even though they professed acceptance to everyone else?  
  
It really didn't matter.  
  
When they were together like this, nothing else could intrude.  
  
There were no thoughts of betrayal, no hurt, and no judgments.  
  
They had all made monumentally bad decisions before, and they had all been hurt so bad that their sorrows still shadowed them.  
  
For the days they spend together however, there is only the meeting of hands. The acceptance of their arms and the closeness of their legs. The lips soothe each others' hurts, and their scents belay the thoughts of anything else.  
  
These are the times when the world feels like it is falling apart, and that as long as they are still joined: the world could go fuck itself; they were tired of trying to fix it.  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
She used them as an escape, for when she wanted to be selfish, and happy.  
  
Buffy came when she couldn't be comfortable in her own skin. She still felt wrong every morning, when she woke up and she was still stuffed into this tiny body, on this dying planet.   
  
She came when she couldn't pretend to be normal anymore, with whatever paramour she had tried to with most recently.  
  
She stayed at times, simply to run her fingers through Asher's hair for one more day.   
  
She came when she was hurt her friends kept trying to change her, make it all okay, make her happy again.  
  
She came when Dawn vanished; and she was the only _Scooby_   to remember her.  
  
She came when she tried to kill herself and realized that she couldn't die again.  
  
That she had had her happy ending and she _wasn't allowed back_.  
  
She came when Whistler told her that the Powers that Be were finally releasing her from duty, because she was no longer under their control. She could not die and that made her an unclean liability to them.  
  
She ran to them when she tried to end everything, in every way she could think of, and she was too scared to tell anyone else.  
  
She came this last time simply because there was no other place that held any distraction for her, any happiness.  
  
She came because Jean Claude was the only one who she trusted to put her to sleep, when the nightmares grew too real.  
  
She came because she loved them. She left because it scared her.  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  
He held onto her like she would mend his heart.   
  
He loved her their way he had loved only once before.  
  
A way he never thought he would again.  
  
He loved her for the way that their times together were pure, untainted by daily life, politics, or concerns for anyone else.  
  
He grasped her to keep her against him as long as he possibly could. Inhumanly long and yet neither cared.  
  
He held her and mourned the loss of his scars; for he had slowly come to define himself in spite of them and now him body was changed again.  Against his will.  
  
He tried to make her stay, each time, sometimes even locking her up because only when she was there could he believe Jean Claude's desire for his true self.  
  
He made her hold his face in her hands until he could accept that she loved him _the same_ , _not more_   without his scars.   
  
That she was drawn to him regardless, the way he hoped his first love would have been.  
  
He held her first, every time, because he could never quite believe that she would come back to someone as broken as he saw himself.   
  
He was the last to let go every time because he could believe himself whole, powerful, and strong only when she convinced him it was so.  
  
He killed one of his oldest allies, because they were determined to bewitch her away using another's old marks. Challenged him to a duel, and cut him down in the street, Buffy never the wiser for it.  
  
He tried so hard, because he loved them both. His curse, for he was afraid it was not enough to keep them together, as it had failed before.  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
He grasped them close because he knew his petite one was not his true love.   
  
Their problems would not be so dividing nor so numerous, if they were truly meant to share eternity together.  
  
He held them both close because he longed for the love he shared in the past anew.  
  
He longed for permanence as he saw the chance for something even greater.  
  
He held them longer because he does not like who he becomes without them.  
  
He loved the chance to spar with his loves, both enjoying the fierceness of swordplay,  delighting in the way blood was freely shared and enjoyed. Something so essential to his life and so defining of his existence.  
  
Accepted and welcomed again.  
  
He died the petite morte when they moved against each other in the closest, most intertwined of ways. Each joined with eachother, a unbroken circle.  
  
He cherished the times he saw them both trust again, for he had not seen it in Asher, since the loss of their Juliana.  
  
He played whatever tricks they let him, to try to trap them into staying; so afraid he was of the loss of them both.  
  
He even tried to manipulate her into staying, so she would share his bed one more time as he passed into the daily sleep.  
  
He loved her because she understood every power-play he feinted was to bind her closer with his love.  
  
He reveled in their acceptance of his fear, his mortal, _bone-cutting_   fear of being under someone else's power again. Of being abused forever as his human and early immortal self had been unable to escape.  
  
He would promise anything and everything to Buffy, just to have her smirk and reply that it was already hers.  
  
When they slept together, the world held its breath, to see the beauty of his loves glow.  
  
He loved both blondes and it terrified him, to realize the lack of permanence their spots could be in his life.  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  
Her hands slip down, grasping his cock and guiding it into her.  
  
Asher pushes himself into her again, and holds her above him on our bed.  
  
The way she curves above him makes my heart swell, and it bursts.  
  
I hold her from behind, soothing her…..cherishing her as she moves between us.  
  
My lips brush against her hair, following the path of her skin from ear to neck.  
  
I can taste the salt of her tears and the slick of her sweat.  
  
I nibble the shell of her ear as I whisper….J’taime….I love you…tu appartenez à nous….let us take it all away………let us help you forget.  
  
Grasping her hips, Asher moves her harder and more roughly against him with every thrust. He grinds her against him, making her pant and ripping noises from her throat.  
  
She claws at his chest, looking for purchase before I pull her arms behind her.  
  
She like the restraint, knowing that I am strong enough to truly have her any way I want her.  
  
Using one hand to force her against my chest , tight with no room to wriggle away, I start holding her thighs. I grip them oh so tightly, harder and tighter until she gasps and I release her. Then again, and again, massaging her hips and thighs as Asher grinds her so harshly again him.  
  
We will make her forget.  
  
Every time she comes to us it renews our fervor.  
  
Each time is another chance to be too irresistible to leave behind.   
  
Using my teeth to draw white hot patterns against the back of her neck I use her arms against her and force her over Asher.  
  
I tell her to lick him every time I lick her, to bit him when I bite her, and to touch herself when I free her hands.  
  
I demand that she waits for my command to cum.  
  
That she will make Asher cum inside of her when I drink from her.  
  
Barely coherent she assents, torturing Asher with her mouth the way I torture her with mine.  
  
Nibbling down the side of her neck, licking my way behind her ear, describing all the dirty things I’m going to do to her before I must sleep for   
the day.  
  
When I nick her to taste a bit of her blood she uses rougher canines to do the same to Asher.  
  
Watching him beneath her, I know I cannot prolong this for much longer. Not this time.  
  
Not after she’s just arrived.  
  
Not when we still need to pry from her where she’s been this time.  
  
Who she’s lost this time.  
  
How long she’ll stay this time.  
  
So I whisper for her to cum, to cum hard, and to cum now as I sink myself into her neck.   
  
As I lose myself in her blood, in her soul.  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
